


Sickening glamour

by spookyscaryiwachan



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Human, Black Reaper Kaneki, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Oral Sex, Smut, he's a photographer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 21:43:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12442407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyscaryiwachan/pseuds/spookyscaryiwachan
Summary: Modelling au. Sasaki Haise hates the shallowness models possess, yet he works for them. Can Touka change his opinion?





	Sickening glamour

Everyone's chatter falls silent when a man permeated in black enters the room, following Nishiki.

'This is Sasaki, the new photographer. Keep your hands off him.' He says, and Touka observes the guy. She recognises him, he used to be a model too. Everyone knew him as 'the man who rocked every hair colour'. He was a legend, always on magazine covers, going by the alias 'Kaneki Ken'. Then one day he quit the business, and he practically disappeared.

The gaze he gives them freezes the room, and Touka focuses on the hated she can see radiating from his glasses.

-

It doesn't take him long to set up, doing so with efficiency, and soon he is ready.

'Turn.' He says, monotone laced in his voice. Usually photographers encouraged their clients, but Sasaki refuses to do that. Why add more fuel to their ego?

'What's his problem?' Touka hisses to Yoriko, the two of them awaiting their turn.

'What do you mean?'

'Him.' Touka points an accusing finger at Sasaki, Yoriko shrugging her shoulders in return.

'There's nothing wrong with him.' She says, both still staring at the man. Even though his head is turned, Touka swears he is smirking. Before she can say anything else, Hinami interrupts them.

'Onee-chan!' Running to her, Touka lets out a quick 'oof', Hinami fixing her clothes.

'Makeup.' She says rushed, Yoriko watching as Hinami puts eyeliner on only one of Touka's eyes. It's easier that way, and no one complains - especially not Touka, who finds it much more practical. It means she can take it off as soon as she gets home.

'Done.' Hinami sighs, giving her outfit one last check-up before pushing Touka to the studio, where Sasaki is waiting.

He huffs, as if annoyed.

'Okay, you know what to do.' The repeated snap of his camera is exceedingly loud, and though Touka's face is beautiful outward, she's mentally grimacing. This whole job makes her uncomfortable, and she hates it. She hates the idea of people buying covers with her on it, the disgusting gazes of everyone. She despises it when people approach her on the street, telling her they recognise her, and she always leaves without answering. But she needs money, and this is the only way she can get it.

Smirking, he sends her a questionable grin, leaving a shiver down her spine.

'Kirishima-san, for this particular shot I'm gonna ask you to push your hair up.'

'Oh, er... give me a minute.' Dashing off the stage, she runs to Hinami, who hears, and is trying to suppress her giggles as she collects the makeup.

'Don't you start.' She warns playfully, feeling more irritated as the mascara brush pricks her usually unexposed eye.

'Ready,' Touka shouts, a little too loudly. However, Sasaki has moved on, and is taking shots of another girl. Bastard, she seethes, kicking a bin. Now she'll have to wait until her turn again, and will be the last to leave.

She's right.

'What's your problem?' She says to Sasaki, tapping her foot impatiently as he packs his equipment. As she suspected, she had been the last model left, and he didn't even ask her to show both her eyes, which she expects had been purposeful.

'Well?'

'What problem,' his hand goes to his chin 'I don't have a problem with any of you.'

'Yes, you do.'

'I don't know what you're talking about, Kirishima-san.' He's lying to her face. Bastard.

'Oh really,' insisting, she studies his face for any kind of reaction, 'Then why do you look at us with disgust.'

'I don't.'

'You do. You haven't been discreet about it.' He twitches, and she knows she's right.

'So, why.'

'Why not?' Suddenly his tone is sharp, cold, and the coolness glints of his glasses. His eyes, which she can finally see, are clouded with distaste.

'What's that supposed to mean!' Her anger is slowly rising, his attitude irritating her.

'People like you are fake. It sickens me.' Who does he think he is, saying those type of things. Feeling highly offended, the crack of her slap rings out before she processes what happened. Although she understands what he's saying, most of these people are her friends, and she won't let a stranger insult them.

Holding his cheek in shock, he chuckles dryly, sadistically.

'See you later, Kirishima-san.'

He leaves, and she can only watch the shadows consume him, or is it the other way round?

That night she can't sleep, his words ringing in her ears.

-

'Touka? Are you okay?' She looks like a zombie, Hinami desperately trying to cover up her eye-bags.

'Yeah, I just couldn't sleep much.' She frowns when Kaneki walks past her.

'You shouldn't party too hard, you still have work.' He whispers in her ear, making sure no one else had seen him. Hearing her growl, he feels satisfied, but not enough. These people are the scum of the earth, and he works for them.

Once again he wastes her time, which she isn't as irked at, as there are things she wants to say to him. Cleaning his equipment, he looks up when she stomps in front of him, ready to confront him.

'If you hate us so much then why do you work here?'

'I like taking photos.' It seems he has forgotten about her slap, or he just doesn't care.

'You can't do that anywhere else?' She speaks with sarcasm, his reply causing her to furrow her eyebrows.

'No.'

The bored look he gives her pisses her off.

'Who the hell do you think you are! Coming here, insulting everyone. You can't even say it to their faces.' Trying to control her temper, she takes a deep breath, bringing her voice to a low snap.

'The only fake person here is you.' Her finger presses onto his chest, hard, for effect. Somehow it works, and he falls silent.

'You are the king of fakes.' She spits, going to her dressing room.

Lost in thought, she doesn't hear her door open, only reacting when something falls in front of her.

'Here.' His distant voice only manages to irritate her more, and before she can push him out he is gone.

It's a stack of photos, she realises. They look good, his use of lighting effective. Touka had studied photography in school, though she doesn't remember much. Still, she can't deny her gratitude for a capable photographer. At least he didn't sabotage it, as she thought he would.

The next day she arrives early, earlier than everyone else, except Sasaki. Glaring at her, she ignores it, hesitantly going to him.

Maybe I shouldn't-

'You take decent photos.' She tells him, before she can stop herself. Though she's trying to be nicer, she isn't willing to pay him compliments.

'Hmm...' he comments, scrutinising his work. 'The camera only likes certain people.' She snorts.

'You sound like Tsukiyama.'

As if on cue, Tsukiyama comes flying in, immediately watching the models. He's muttering under his breath, grabbing hairpins and flowers, throwing them to Hinami, who follows after him.

'Today's the day!' He screams, Touka wincing in response.

'We're doing the pieces today.'

-

'Kirishima, put that on.'

'Why me?!' It's his star piece, Tsukiyama's grand design, or so he calls it. The outfit is based on tribal marriages, and he had even created a male alternative.

'It suits you best. Now hurry up.' Those words only manage to piss her off. Why does she have to do something she hates so much, just because she needs money. Still hesitant, a flash distracts her, only just realising Kaneki had taken a photo of her.

'Go on Kirishima-san.' She can imagine him saying 'stop wasting my time', but he doesn't add anything else. Maybe he's being sincere.

Hinami follows her to the dressing room, helping her get on the clothing. They both stop when they hear Sasaki and Tsukiyama in the next room.

'Why not? You would look irresistible in my design.'

'No,' Sasaki replies, sharp, and Touka can detect a whine in his companions voice.

'It will fit you perfectly. Kirishima is wearing the female version, and you will get a chance to model again.'

'I said no!' He shouts, and the everyone outside goes silent.

'Hurry up~' Touka says, agitated. Fumbling, Hinami manages to do the last loop, and they quickly leave to the studio, where Sasaki is perching at his camera, emotionless.

'W-well then,' Tsukiyama starts, voice trembling slightly. When he sees Touka his eyes shine, forgetting about whatever just happened 'Kirishima-san, perfect, now hurry up.' He shoves her slightly to the stage. The mention of her name makes Kaneki look up, his mood lifting slightly so that he doesn't feel as irritable any more.

'We have a deadline people!'

-

  
'I don't like this.' Touka hisses to Yoriko. The outfit she is sporting is nothing like Yoriko's traditional wedding gown, both of them standing side-by-side. Her suit is tight-fitted, showing off her cleavage, and her hair has been styled so that both her eyes are shown, with a band on her forehead. She looks beautiful, Sasaki thinks, watching her from the lenses.

'Come on, come on,' Tsukiyama encourages 'Yoriko, you are traditional, the perfect bride, and Touka, you are unique, mysterious. Let that come through.' Obviously pleased, Yoriko smiles gleefully, posing against Touka, who has a small scowl. The designer, Tsukiyama, usually forgets politeness and uses their first names when he gets too passionate.

'Onee-chan, you look like a warrior princess.' Hinami calls out, Touka jokingly narrowing her eyes, focusing her attention back to the camera.

'Or a queen.' Sasaki mutters, though no one hears him.

'Kaneki-kun, make sure you get different angles of our beautiful ladies.' Tsukiyama always calls him by his alias, and it pisses him off. So much that he wants to throw him off a bridge, and doesn't even bother to hide the scowl that Touka catches.

'Ah, Kaneki-kun,' he places his hand on his forehead, dramatically 'I remember the days we used to model together. We were perfect, you know, in sync. And now we've both left the camera, our hearts chasing after different desires. How lucky we are to be reunited.'

'We never modelled together.' Sasaki counters, cool. That doesn't derail Tsukiyama, though.

'I remember your original dark haircut, primped, for that promotional shoot for Takatsuki. You were holding her book, no? And then your white hair, you looked particularly delicious with that eyepatch. And the other shoot for the ccg company, wearing those pinstripes. They always suited you-'

'Yes, and I remember your use of dramatic flair. Too much of it, I should say.' Tsukiyama looks insulted, gasping, and Touka smirks slightly. Perfect, Sasaki thinks, taking a photo of that exact moment, entranced.

After they are finally done, he prints the photos, making an extra copy of his favourite one for himself. Giving them to Tsukiyama, he watches as he flicks through them, stopping at Kaneki's preferred one.

'Nice one, Kaneki-kun~'

Looking over at it, Hinami gasps, complimenting Touka and Yoriko. Tsukiyama also adds his input.

'Oh Kirishima, how alluring. Your coy eyes, seductive smirk, truly magnifique!' He pats her on the shoulder. 'This will sell for sure.' Only Kaneki notices her grimace, instantly intrigued. He will have to find out more.

-

Tsukiyama is very happy with the results of the photo shoot, so happy that he invites everyone to a party to celebrate. To keep up appearances, Sasaki shows up, bombarded by several people. He doesn't see that Touka is having the same problem, or that she is so stressed she takes every single glass of champagne she is offered. Instead, he manages to escape the crowd, leaving the main room to explore the empty halls. He decides that later he will go back, so Tsukiyama won't pester him, deciding to spend his free time alone. He doesn't expect, however, to see Touka.

'Kirishima?' Letting out a slur of a chuckle, she sways slightly, and Kaneki knows she's drunk. This is the first time he's seen her since the party started, and the stench of alcohol replaces her presume.

'Careful.' He says, stabling her. Wobbling, her grip on his shoulders is iron, trying to find balance.

'Sasaki?' She asks, her eyes trying to focus on him. He doesn't reply, opting to watch her look for him, unintelligently.

'I'm here.' He sighs, annoyance in his tone.

'I want to go home.' She whines, trying to leave, puzzled when he grabs her wrist.

He can't let her go alone. A cute, drunk woman going down alleyways is a dangerous fate, one he doesn't want for her. Hoisting her up, she squeals, feeling slightly sick. Taking her with him, he says his goodbyes to Tsukiyama, and ignores his shocked face when he sees him leaving with Touka. He bumps into several people, who try and talk to him, including Hinami, but Touka is moaning impatiently into his arm, and he would rather get her home.

They go outside, and both feel refreshed to be in crisp air, though Touka shivers slightly. He gives her his jacket, ready to take her home.

'Where do you live?' He asks, exasperated. She knocks his glasses crooked as she spins in all directions, searching.

'Umm, there!' She says proudly, pointing to a tree.

'Really,' he deadpans 'You live there?'

'Yep!' Smiling at him again, Sasaki finds himself staring at her innocent grin. Knowing talking to her would be useless, he takes her to his house, setting her in front of his door to unlock it.

'Woah!' Tipping forward, she pushes him against the wall, accidentally. Her eyes are glazed with alcohol as she scrutinises him, Sasaki trying not to lose his patience.

'Your glasses are crooked.' She states, fixing them.

'I wonder who did that.' Pouting at him, he chuckles slightly.

'Mean~'

'I'm realistic.' Opening the door, he pulls her off of him, Touka stumbling into his apartment. She kicks off her heels, and his jacket, throwing it disrespectfully to the floor.

'Make yourself at home.' He grumbles, picking up the clothing he had lent her. Looking at her, he starts laughing, watching her features turn into a frown.

'What's so funny?' She drunkenly snaps, pointing to the left of him.

'Ah, nothing. It's just... you're so short.' He had never seen her without her ridiculously high heels, and it's very amusing. Her hands begin punching his chest, muttering insults to him. Her eyebrows raise, and she stops hitting him, only to travel to his stomach, smoothening her hands.

'You have abs?' She asks dumbly, Sasaki trying not to snort. He knows she would die if she remembered this situation, or any of what had happened so far. It's funny - most of the things she's said are so unlike her.

Suddenly, her stomach rumbles, and her hand travels to her mouth.

'Bathroom?' She asks, desperately.

'To the left.'

Running, he follows her, hearing his door lock. The sound of her vomiting fills the silence, and then the flush of his toilet. Minutes later he is tapping his foot impatiently, banging on the door.

'Oi, let me in. It's my apartment.' Hearing the click of his lock, he enters, seeing her huddled in front of the toilet. Trying to stand, she collapses, and he is at her side. Her arm presses tightly around her stomach, doing nothing to stop the bile rising in her throat.

'I'm gonna be sick again.' Her voice is trembling.

'Do you have to?' He snaps harshly, feeling irritated. She's retching into his toilet as he holds her hair back, the other hand rubbing her back. When she's done she gives him a small 'thank you', before he helps her to his living room.

'Urgh, lie down.' She does so, and he leaves, only to come back with a glass of water. Taking it, she sits up, her stomach feeling like a mess. Sasaki looks angry, and she suddenly remembers slapping him, feeling incredibly guilty.

'You know,' she starts, gulping down the water 'I'm sorry for slapping you all that time ago.'

He doesn't say anything, only taking the glass away from her to clear up what she's spilt. When he's done, she reaches out for the cup, but he puts it to her lips, waiting for her to swallow it.

'I don't want water everywhere.' He justifies. After she's finished drinking, he wipes her wet lips. They are appealing, plump, and his hand lingers a little too much. At least she's too drunk to care, or notice, for that matter.

'Is this your real hair?' She slurs, painfully tugging a black section, which is surprisingly soft.

'Why do you ask?'

'I don't know, I thought you'd have like... a shrine of wigs or something.' Instead of being insulted, he cracks a small smile that shocks him.

'Why wigs?'

'Would you really dye your hair that much.' She deadpans, and he shrugs, ignoring her. It's weird to him, talking to a drunk person, and actually enjoying the conversation. An idea comes to him.

'Kirishima-'

'You can call me Touka, we've known each other long enough now.' She playfully punches his arm, and he swallows, debating.

'Touka-chan,' he corrects, liking the way it rolls off his tongue.

'Yeah?' Idiot, he thinks, facepalming. He takes back his previous thought.

'Do you like your job.' She stills, solemn, and he momentarily believes she's sober. Hanging her head, her eyes are hooded, and he can't see her expression.

'No.' She admits, sadly. His eyes flash with concern, then interest.

'Why not?'

'It makes me uncomfortable.' Still drunk, he confirms. Touka would never admit anything about herself to him, especially not personal stuff. If he wanted to, he could use this as ammunition, immediately shooting himself down. With anyone else, he would take the golden opportunity.

What is wrong with me?

'Why don't you just quit?' It's the best solution for her, if it means she can do something that promises her happiness.

'I need money, and that's the only way I can get it.' She is swinging slightly, her eyes dropping, and he can tell she is tired.

'You're too cruel to yourself, Touka-chan.' Gently, he touches her forehead, comforting, and is surprised when she leans into it. He doesn't want to break the atmosphere, and minutes later he realises her body has gone limp.

'Touka-chan?!' He asks urgently, pulling her towards him. Oh, she's asleep. She's much closer to him now, and he gently cradles her body against him, cupping her cheek.

What am I doing?

He is quick to pick her up, bringing her to his bed. Tucking her in, he allows his hand to trail up her arm, to her shoulder, and her jaw, resting at her lips. Then, he leaves, going to his couch and picking up his book, trying to forget the presence in his room.

-

Waking up, she feels a massive hangover, groaning as she rubs her head. She looks around, shrieking when she realises she's not in her bed, or her house.

'Oh, you're awake. I thought you'd sleep forever.' He hands her a coffee, which she suspected he had made for himself, but had given it to her. It's a nice sentiment.

'What happened?' She asks groggily.

'You got drunk, and when I tried to take you home you said you live in a tree, so I took you here.' His explanation leaves her quiet, only one thought going through her head.

'We didn't...' she begins, trailing off. It takes Sasaki a moment to catch on, smirking when he does.

'You mean fuck? God no.' He seems repulsed by the idea, which offends her. Taking a sip of his coffee, she almost spits it out. She takes her coffee black too, but his tastes like shit. Still, it's rude to be ungrateful.

'Thanks.' She mutters quietly.

'Sorry?'

'I said thanks!'

They're silent, the sound of Touka sipping coffee filling the room, making her uncomfortable.

'Where did you sleep?'

'I couldn't - you snore.' He curtly tells her, admiring her flushed cheeks.

'H-hey-'

'Don't you have work today?' He interrupts, a hand on his chin.

'Shit!' Jumping up, she happily placed the mug on the side, running to his door. Wait a minute, she thinks, turning to his shit-eating grin.

'Tsukiyama gave us the day off.'

He chuckles, but disguises it with an obviously fake cough. Flipping him off, she goes to his couch, getting comfortable.

'What are you doing?' Sasaki enquiries, confused.

'What does it look like.' She snaps, taking a blanket 'It's early and I have a headache.' His eyebrows raise, obviously doubting her.

'I live with Hinami, and if I go back she's gonna ask me who I was with, and give me an even bigger headache.'

'Oh, Fueguchi? I saw her when we were leaving.'

'And?'

'She gave me a thumbs up.' Touka gasps, sliding herself into the couch cushions. She can't go home now, probably never. Sensing her dilemma, Sasaki gives her a stare, as if telling her there's a simple solution to their problem.

'You can just stay here, if you want.'

'Eh?'

'Am I talking to a five year old?!' Going to his bedroom, he comes back with a shirt, throwing it to her. He immediately meets her glare when she detaches the large clothing.

'Go on then, you don't want to stay in those ratty clothes anymore.' Huffing, she goes to his room, peeling off her dress and replacing it with his dark t-shirt. She sighs, of course it's black. She makes her way back to him.

'How is this so big!?' Too busy complaining, she doesn't notice Sasaki's eyes following her, marvelling at how good she looks in his shirt. He puts his nose in his book, ignoring the thought of her, and not realising she is wandering around his apartment, exploring.

'You have a lot of books!' She shouts from the other end of the room.

'I know.'

'You're a bookworm.'

Later on, when he's on his computer, she approaches him, giggling.

'Why do you have a dress?' Smirking, she throws it to him, watching his panicked face. Telling him to 'wait a second', she goes back into his room, fishing into a drawer hidden deep in his wardrobe.

'Got it.' She comes back with a long, blonde wig, his eyes practically popping out of his head.

'Put that back.' He grouches, trying to take it away from her. Sneakily, she pulls it away, placing it on his head.

'Ha,' she smirks, triumphant. As she adjusts the wig, she pauses.

'I remember this.' She whispers softly. Collecting her phone, she searches for a certain image, feeling proud once she finds it. Waving it in his face, she notices him trying to snatch it.

'That's you?!' She laughs. Hearing a groan, she chuckles more, waiting for an answer.

'They made me wear that dress once. Something to advertise an auction.' He doesn't add anymore, but she gasps, remembering.

'You were the one who did your own make up!' She says, watching his cheeks turn pink. She won't finish there.

'What was it?' She mutters to herself, seeing his eyes go wide.

'Sasako!'

He stills, and she can see his face go pale.

'So that's Sasaki, Kaneki Ken, and now Sasako. How many names do you ha-'

'Shut up.' She falls quiet, confused.

'What?'

'You come into my home, search everything, annoy me to the ends of the earth. And now you're being nosy.' He hisses at her, fed up. Tsukiyama had the balls to call him 'Kaneki', and now she's talking about it. It makes him want to rip his hair out.

'Excuse me!'

'Just leave.' She is stricken, and he is left in silence when his door shuts. Navigating the unfamiliar building, Touka can her the sound of furniture breaking.

Going home, she ignores Hinami, who wiggles her eyebrows at her, going straight to her bed. It isn't as comfortable as his, but it is decent enough.

-

When they return to work, their relationship goes back to how it started. He is cold to her, and instead of insulting her, he just walks away, clearly ignoring her, at which she sees Tsukiyama pull a relieved face.

What had she done wrong anyway? Perhaps it was because she asked about him, and since his conversation with Tsukiyama she knows it's a touchy subject for him. Still, it's unreasonable, and unfair, and to be honest, she kind of misses his presence.

This time he doesn't have to give some infuriating excuse for her to stay back, Touka doing so voluntary. Once again, he is checking his equipment when they are left alone, and continues to attend to it when she tries to talk to him.

'Sasaki.'

'Sasaki.'

'Haise-'

'Will you shut up,' he bites his tongue after seeing her gasp, knowing his words are harsh. 'Don't call me by my first name.'

Pausing, he notices her features set with determination. She has to apologise.

'I'm sorry. For everything. I shouldn't have meddled-'

'Yeah, you shouldn't have.' It's his fault, and he knows it. He should've been more lenient, or nicer in general. 'There is a way I can forgive you, however.'

'What is is?' He smirks - she really is desperate. But why does she want to be friends with a loser like him, why, when she has Yoriko, and Hinami? Why him? He had deliberately been rude to her, pushed her away. The only time he had tried to be nice to her was when she was drunk, and it's clear she doesn't remember. Was it because he took care of her, or let her stay the following day? She still hasn't returned the t-shirt she lent him, and he finds that he doesn't mind at all.

There's a cake on the counter, and his eyes flicker to it, so that hers follow. He goes to it, taking a slice and holding it to her lips, tauntingly.

'Want a bite, Kirishima-san?' She must look stupid, wavering so close to forbidden fruit, and his triumphant smirk tells her exactly that. Surprising him, she eagarly snatches it from him, eating larger bites than necessary.

'Careful, you'll choke.' His tone turns cynical 'Aren't you on a diet anyway?' All models practically starve themselves, and he wants to see if she's like them.

'Fuck it.' Her voice is muffled, stuffed with cake, but she doesn't care. Watching her eat, he smirks softly, thoughtfully, resting the back of his head in his arms.

'You are different to the others.' He comments, and before she can question him he is gone, leaving her to wipe the crumbs off her face.

'A-are we good now?'

-

It becomes a sort of routine for them to stay late together in the studio. He always brings her cake, and she feels like a criminal when eats the whole thing shamelessly.

-

Rize gasps, prompting an eye roll from Touka. Why is everyone so dramatic?

'Why do you smell like cake?' Her lids are sly, cunning, while Saiko runs up to her, excitedly.

'Can I have some?' Not wanting to be rude, Touka reluctantly reaches into her bag, pulling out the small piece she had saved for herself, so she could nibble on it with no-one watching.

'Here-' she says, but Yonebayashi snatches it away from her. In seconds, she has finished it, licking the cream off of her fingers.

'Got any more?'

'No.' She replies, irked slightly. The cake is from Sasaki - for her. She doesn't want to give any away.

'Where'd you get them from, they're delicious.' Everything's delicious to you, she thinks.

'Oh, er, I don't know.' It's the truth; she should ask Sasaki soon. And pay him back.

'Well,' Saiko shrugs 'Bring more.'

The others pull the same hopeful, and she wants to consider it.

-

'Chocolate today.' He says, placing the food in front of her. Quickly, she takes it.

'Where do you buy them.' Each flavour he brings is delicious, and she needs to pay him back.

'Oh, I make them.' His tone is nonchalant, and she splutters, coughing slightly. 'It's not that big of a deal.' She can't see his eyes behind his glasses.

'Of course it is!' Just the thought of him slaving away in his kitchen, baking something just for her makes her heart flutter.

Right now, her face is so beautiful, and Sasaki decides this is his opportunity. Slowly, he leans towards her, his voice becoming lower, a whisper.

'You're overreacting.' Tilting her chin, he presses his lips firmly to hers. He smirks slightly when she sighs, melting into his arms.

Sweet, she thinks, gasping slightly when his tongue meets hers, tugging on her lower lip slightly.

With the force of their kiss, Sasaki clutches her, digging his fingers into her shoulder. They slowly lean onto the stage, his arms framing her head as he deepens the kiss.

Maybe it's because they are surrounded by white walls, and a white floor, that he can't help it ask himself if he's dreaming. He prays he's not. As is to reassure himself, he smoothes his hands down her sides, relishing the wet heat from her tongue.

Suddenly, she presses herself to him, moaning softly, and he knows their situation is going to take a pleasant turn.

'Are- you gonna- take off your clothes- off.' He says between kisses. After their conversation long ago, despite being mad at her, he wouldn't push her to do anything with her poses that was suggestive. With the other models, he would always notice how she looked away, and would grip her arms insecurely.

'Uh, y-yeah.'

Slowly, her hands tremble as she pulls the dress over her, getting it stuck. He waits patiently, and her heart threatens to rip out of her chest, feeling his gaze burn into her exposed skin.

'S-stop looking.'

Despite all the cake she's eaten, she hasn't put on any weight, Sasaki dancing fingers along her bare stomach. She lets out a sigh. Even her body is different, unlike the other models he's slept with. He can see their starvation, and it sickens him. Her arms wrap around herself, hiding.

'You don't need to cover yourself.' She averts her gaze, looking so insecure.

'I've never...' She's never done this before, any of it.

'Really?' His glasses fall off, and she finds herself laughing, despite feeling a little sick. She goes quiet, and he watches as she covers herself more.

'How about this?' He suggests, taking off his shirt, happy that she looks a little more relieved, which sates him. Hesitantly, she brings her hands to his stomach, running them up his abs. She gets a sense of deja vu, had done this before? With her distracted, Sasaki looks at her chest, admiring her. Carefully, he places his hands on her shoulders, massaging. Eyes closing, a relaxed expression is plastered on her face, and he feels daring. They reach across her back, to her bra, pinching the clasp. Her breathing becomes heavier as he undoes it, bringing the straps down her shoulders, and she immediately throws her arms against him, to make sure he can't see her. He can feels her breasts against his chest, and her pulse, which is thrummig with anxiety.

'Touka.' He sighs in her ear. 'Are you okay?'

'Yes.' Unlike her at all, her voice is timid, meek, lacking her usual confidence, and he can tell she's lying. He allows her to stay pressed against him, bringing a hand down to cup her through her tights. She flinches, and he wonders if he has done the wrong thing, but she sinks onto his hand, shifting slightly.

'Y-you can, if you want t-to.' She's given her permission, and he presses two fingers against her, stroking. Enjoying the attention, she visibly relaxes, slowly rocking her hips. As she lets out quiet moans, Sasaki feels something stir in his pants. He removes his hand, placing them on her waist to move her onto the tent in his trousers. They both release a quiet groan, and Sasaki buries his face between her shoulder and neck, focusing on the alleviating pressure.  
  
'Okay, I can do this.' Muttering to herself, she rips herself away from him, unsure 'You can l-look.' He does, staring at her creamy skin, and breasts, which are right in front of him.

'I didn't know you have a mole.' Poking at it, he watches his finger indent, and the way she squirms against him. He hisses, bucking his hips, prompting a small moan from her.

'It's cute.' Sucking a dusty nipple, the pad of his thumb attends to the neglected one, Touka rutting against him urgently.

'S-Sasaki,' He bites along her collarbone, soothing the skin with his tongue.

'Say my name.' He encourages.

'Okay, Kaneki~' she teases, ruffling his hair. That does something. His eyes darken, and he roughly grips her thighs, pushing her down so he hovers on top.

'What did you say?'

'I called you Kaneki.' He changes. His kisses get rougher, nipping at her jawline, and his hands roughly grip her, pulling her as close as possible. He leaves a messy trail down her stomach, using his elbows to spread her legs, biting the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Reaching her cunt, he presses his tongue flat against her, hearing her swear.

'What bad language, Touka-chan.' As if a punishment, he laves at her, deliberately ignoring her clit. She's getting wetter, and she has to slap a hand over her mouth to keep her from moaning.

'Not good enough.' He comments pulling away from her. 'I want to hear you.' Encouraging her, he lightly touches the bundle of nerves, delighted at the way she jumps. She leaves her mouth bare, and he is quick to reattach himself to her dripping sex.

This time is better, he inserts three fingers, pumping them relentlessly as he attends to her clit. Curling them, she lets out a particularly loud moan when he hits her sweet spot. He repeats his actions, and she has to grab his dark hair.

'Sasaki, Sasaki...'

'Ha-Haise,' she moans his name repeatedly, and his efforts increase, wanting her to come.

'You taste so good.' He moans against her folds, running his tongue against her clit. Something knots in her stomach, and she moves in sync with him, chasing the feeling. The air is practically ripped from her as her vision goes white, succumbing to pleasure. He makes sure to get every last drop of her, flicking a finger against her to see her twitch in oversensitivity.

'Congratulations,' he smirks 'Your first orgasm.'

She is still trying to catch her breath, heart skipping beats as he leaves pecks back up to her lips. She returns his kiss lazily, mind swimming. Her hands are weak as she attempts to unbuckle his belt.

'Quit laughing.' Removing her hands, he undoes his own clothing, taking off his trousers as well. With more confidence, she grips his dick, pumping him.

'Ah! You- know more- than I thought. A-about this stuff.' He sighs, loving the way she twists her hand, slicking him up. She spreads his juices, before directing him to her entrance.

He's panting, his cheeks stained with unmistakeable desire.

'Can I?' A nod from her is all it takes for him to push inside her. She gasps, not prepared for the pain, distracted when he licks her neck, and his hand meets her clit. Biting his lip, she can see he is trying not to lose control, and she feels the same passion in her.

'Move.' She whines, gasping as he pulls out almost completely, and pushes back inside. Their pants echo against the plain walls as he increases his speed, building up his thrusts.

She's not shallow. Her moans are deep, and loud, so that he has to place a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. It's not really working though, as her eyes squint shut, and she whimpers against his palm, blowing hot air on it.

'I'm close.' She muffles, and he frees her mouth to replace it with his, drinking in her moans. One hand grips her hip, and the other goes to her clit as he snaps onto her, their cervixes connecting. His teeth bite her lips, coaxing her into orgasm, staying entirely focused on her face. She clenches onto him, so tightly that he follows straight after, collapsing next to her, groaning her name.

Staring at the ceiling, her eyes flutter.

She looks at him, and she can tell that he has recovered completely, giving her a lust filled gaze.

'We're not finished.' He says simply, descending onto her again.

They don't finish after the second round, or the third, but the fourth. Though he can tell she's tired, her eyes are glazed, and he becomes drunk on the pleasure he gives her.

At the end, he is a panting mess, and she is twitching from over sensitivity.

'Sorry,' he apologises, though she knows he doesn't mean it 'That was a lot for someone's first time.'

'There's a couch right there.' She complains, and he blinks, surprised. He had forgotten about that, but still carries her onto it, allowing her to rest her head on his chest.

'Thanks for the cake.' She mutters, randomly.

'No problem, I made it for you.' Blushing, she buries her face into him, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

'So, what do I get in return for all that... cake?' It sounds like innuendo, and she punches his chest, too tired to make it hurt. He smiles, nuzzling her, enjoying the small giggles she lets out.

'I don't know... coffee?' 

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. Uhh, this is weird to me.


End file.
